


Glitter and Gold

by ThatWouldBee_Enough



Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spitroasting, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWouldBee_Enough/pseuds/ThatWouldBee_Enough
Summary: Alex and John are dancers at a strip club, and Thomas is a regular who can't seem to stay away.------------------Prompt #19 - Threesome - Jamilams
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson/John Laurens
Series: Kinktober 2020 [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947364
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	Glitter and Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fitsofpassion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitsofpassion/gifts).



> Hello it's January, and I have finished another kinktober prompt 😅-- Enjoy!

Alex hooks a leg up over the lap in front of him, straddling thighs like he’s done a thousand times, but these ones are connected to a familiar face, warm and relaxed and far more ridiculously good looking than all the other customers he comes across on any given night. Runs hands from his shoulders down to his chest and leans in close so he can purr seductively right by his ear, “Back again, Thomas?” 

He sets his hands at Alex’s waist– strict violation of the _no touching_ rule– but the rules don’t exactly apply to Thomas. He has money, connections– the kind that hold weight for anyone and anything– and no one is about to kick him out of their club over something so frivolous. Besides, Alex has made it perfectly clear to management that _he_ doesn’t have a problem with Thomas’s wandering hands. Hell, he’d let the guy stick his dick in him right there in public if it ensured he continued to favor Alex over the other dancers. The mornings after Thomas stops by the club, Alex always sleeps soundly knowing that his rent and bills are paid for the month, and he’s not about to give a good thing up so easily. 

Thomas smirks up at him easily, traces lithe fingers up Alex’s bare chest, and he’s pretty sure he does it just because he knows he _can_ , and that authoritative, entitled ego of his does things to Alex that it probably _shouldn’t_ so he keeps careful track of his own reactions. Makes sure not to give anything away in his own expression as he slides his own hands lower. “You dancing tonight, doll?”

Slipping off of Thomas’s lap, he circles around behind him, running a hand along his upper back as he presses back into the touch. “I’m on the schedule,” he notes, keeping his voice light and casual as he leans in to slip his hands down and back up Thomas’s chest. “But I’m sure I could convince management to swap someone out if you’d rather have me all to yourself.” He lets his breath ghost warm over the shell of Thomas’s ear as he speaks, feeling a little thrill at the pleased sound he makes, low and soft and clearly intended only for Alex to hear. 

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment,” he says, his voice almost lazy in how calm he sounds as Alex circles back to his front, and drops into a reverse straddle on top of him, grabs Thomas’s hands and guides them down his thighs. “I enjoy watching you up there. It’s more fun to see how much they all want you, and to know that they don’t get to _have you_ after. Love seeing how jealous they all get when you follow me back into a private room.”

Alex lets his eyes close for just a moment, the words sinking into him like a knife, warm and just sharp enough to send delicious anticipation thrumming through him. He raises up onto his feet again, dragging those hands all the way to his chest. Appreciates the low, possessive note Thomas hums behind him. Alex wasn’t going to argue with _whatever_ he requested for the night, but this scenario is actually probably as good as he could have hoped for. Thomas would have made sure he was _well_ compensated for missing a stage dance of course, but the prospect of taking money from thirsty-ass customers in the audience during a show and _then_ getting paid by Thomas for something more private is undeniably the better option. 

He turns around and slides down onto his knees, nudging Thomas’s legs apart a little further before running his own hands up muscled thighs, his fingers brushing along suit pants expensive enough that the cost of them would cover the rent on Alex’s shitty studio for a month. He flashes a coy smile. “Kind of figured you got off on making other people jealous.” 

Thomas quirks an eyebrow at him, but it’s obvious enough by now that he has a _thing_ for Alex running his mouth a little. Enjoys the challenge of it, and Alex isn’t about to question it because it comes so much more naturally than playing the pleasing coquette all the time. If Thomas wants a little bit of bite, he’s more than willing to bare his teeth. 

When Alex’s hands get _just_ to the top of Thomas’s thighs, he leans closer into the space in between them, holding eye contact for a moment too long, a spark of promise in Thomas’s eyes that makes him grin, and then slides his hands back down and pushes up onto his feet so he can straddle him once again. 

“And _you_ get off on being a bit of a brat, don’t you, doll?” He grips fingers in at the small of Alex’s back, presses him closer against his lap. “But that’s alright. I don’t mind putting mouthy little brats in their place, as you well know.” 

Alex bites down on his lip as he circles his hips, tamping down the arousal that’s already starting to flicker low and hot in his gut at the roughness in Thomas’s voice. “So, same arrangement as usual then? For after the show?”

“Bring a friend,” Thomas tells him. “I’m in the mood for a little _more_ tonight.”

* * *

“Really?” John asks him with an eye roll. “That self-important bastard again?”

Alex squints at his own reflection in the dressing room mirror, making sure his hair is falling in a way that frames his face well and that the dark circles under his eyes are at least _mostly_ covered. “It’s good money,” he argues distractedly, turning his head to the side. When John doesn’t immediately agree he turns to level a stare at him. “Come on, it’s fun when we get to work together, and the pay’s way better than whatever other lonely saps you’re gonna rope into a private dance out there.”

“Yeah, because he’s paying for a little _more_ than just a dance.”

Alex scoffs. “As if you’ve never done a little extra to wring more money out of customers.”

“He’s kind of a dick, Alex.” 

“He’s not _that_ bad.” When John challenges that with a skeptical look, Alex just laughs. “I mean, I know he’s entitled and self-absorbed as all hell, but he can be nice when he wants to be. _Real nice_ , if you catch my drift.” 

“Gross,” John teases, scrunching his face in distaste. 

Alex laughs again, can tell John’s resolve is softening even as he pouts. “Come _on_. You probably won’t even have to do much. Remember last time?” Alex angles as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “I’ll owe you a favor, whatever you want. Just help me out.” He lets his eyes go wide and pleading and rests his head on John’s shoulder, rolling his neck back to stare up at him. “ _Please?_ ”

“Fine,” he grumbles, shoving Alex off so he can fix his own hair before the show starts. “But you better not _forget_ about that favor.”

Alex beams. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

After Alex’s turn up on the stage, he quickly stashes his tip money away with all of his other belongings back in the dressing room while John waits impatiently, perched up on the edge of the counter lining the wall of the small space and rapping his fingers against the surface. “Time is money, Alex,” he tells him, but there’s a playful edge to the complaint. “You know that every second I’m sitting back here waiting for you is time I could be making my _own_ tips, right?” 

Alex just rolls his eyes, taking a quick glance in the mirror to make sure he looks okay as he shimmies a pair of his tightest jeans back over his hips. 

“Why even bother with the pants? He’s just going to pull them back off.” 

“Because customers like the physical act of stripping someone down,” he says as he ruffles his own hair a little. “Fucking basics. You sound like it’s your first night here for god’s sake.” 

“You seem tense.” John hops down from the counter, assessing him. 

“I’m fine, I just don’t like keeping him waiting.”

John rolls his eyes and takes a step towards him. Alex doesn’t have enough time to properly react before he wraps a hand around to grab at the back of his head and pull him in for a kiss, deep and familiar. After the initial shock, Alex relaxes into it, hums a pleased noise into John’s mouth as he licks in deeper, sucks along his tongue, casual and intimate all at once. “The man literally comes here just to see you,” John says, his lips an inch off of Alex’s, their foreheads pressed together. “Doubt he has a problem waiting five minutes for you to tidy yourself up.” 

Alex flushes a little at the notion that Thomas came here tonight _just_ to see him. It’s not like he doesn’t _know_ that– he never chooses any of the other dancers anymore– but still, the thought that someone that powerful wants him badly enough to dish out as much money as he does is a little bit thrilling. He feels almost dizzy with it. 

But Alex doesn’t want to get that personal right now. 

He smirks in response and then leans in, rubbing his thumb against John’s cheek. “Sorry, you’ve got some glitter right there.”

“Godammit, I didn’t even _use_ glitter.” He whips around to inspect his face in the mirror again, and Alex laughs, giving himself a final once over before he pulls John out of the dressing room with him. 

* * *

Thomas is waiting in his usual room, the picture of casual elegance as he reclines, one arm resting along the back of the leather couch, the other loosely holding a drink. “Took you long enough, doll. I almost wandered off to find someone else to play with,” he says in that slow, easy drawl, raising one eyebrow in challenge. 

He’s bluffing– Alex knows he’s bluffing– Thomas hasn’t taken another dancer back to a private room in god knows how long– but still, the words chafe at him. Alex doesn’t like the implication that he’s not good enough, that he’s anything less than perfect, because he’s _not_. He’s worked damn hard to make sure of that. He rises to the bait too easily, and he can practically feel John rolling his eyes at his reaction as he crawls up onto the couch to straddle Thomas’s lap, running a hand down the side of his neck, down lower to his chest as he leans in. “As if you’d take anyone else back here. You can’t fool me with that bullshit. I know you don’t want any of the others.”

“I wouldn’t be so cocksure,” he says lightly, ignoring Alex’s touch as he takes another sip of his drink. “You keep running that mouth of yours, sooner or later I’ll get so irritated with you that even your…” He trails off here, bringing a thumb up to trace Alex’s bottom lip. “Talents,” he continues slowly, eyes hungry as he presses down with just a hint of pressure. “Won’t be enough to keep me coming back.”

John settles down beside them on the couch, his legs tucked up behind him as he watches the interaction with a hint of amusement and interest, only Alex able to see his face at this angle. 

Alex smirks, the action awkward due to the way Thomas is pulling his lip down, and takes that thumb into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it and sucking until he has it in deep. “There’s a good boy,” Thomas tells him, taking another small sip, the ice clinking against the sides of his glass. “You’re always so much prettier with something keeping your mouth occupied, darlin’.” 

Alex’s expression goes from smug to peeved at the subtle jab, his eyes narrowing, but Thomas just laughs. Pulls his thumb back to an indignant whine from Alex and leans against the couch again. “I need to finish my drink,” he says, holding it up to make his point. “Don’t want it to get all watered down when the ice melts after all.”

Unsure what exactly he’s expecting here, Alex pouts, runs his palm down Thomas’s chest again, the smooth material of his shirt like water under his fingers, and pitches his voice petulant, whining slightly. “Thought you were so eager to get things started you were about to run off with someone else.”

“I’m eager for _you_ to get things started, doll. I told you to bring a friend for a reason, after all,” he says, motioning lazily towards where John is lounging against the couch the other side of the couch. “Why don’t you put on a bit of a show while I get comfortable and finish this off?” As he says it, he nudges Alex off of his lap, readjusting so his back is leaning against one arm of the couch, giving him a better view of where Alex is now propped up on his knees, John smirking at him with a playful spark in his eyes. When Alex doesn’t move right away, just stares back with raised brows, trying to figure out exactly what he wants, Thomas crosses one leg over his knee and nudges Alex with his foot. “Well, go on then. Show me how good you can be, and maybe I’ll remember why I wanted you back here so badly in the first place.”

Alex pouts again, grumbles a little, but softens easily enough as John wraps strong arms around his shoulders, nipping lightly at his neck, behind his ear. He sighs at the warm touch and rolls his shoulders down, arches his back a little, putting his bare chest on prominent display as John trails a hand lower, teases one nipple, then pinches. “Fuck,” Alex sighs, and it’s not entirely acted. He’s always been sensitive there, and John _knows_ that, so he has no doubt he’s working him up on purpose. Payback, most likely, for dragging him out here to help keep Thomas entertained and– okay– that’s fair. He bites down his instinctive whine when John twists a little bit, channeling the restless energy into squirming instead, his whole body shifting with the touch. “Please,” he begs as heat rises to his cheeks, unsure if he’s asking for it to stop or for more. Mercifully, John lets go, trailing his nails lightly down Alex’s side instead, over the ridges of his ribcage and the top of his hips. 

“So polite,” John teases, lips still pressed right up against the skin of his neck, that warm breath so close that it makes Alex’s brain go a little hazy. “You don’t say please often.” Trails a hand down lower, running fingers along the waistband of his jeans. “Only when you’re all worked up and really want something. Isn’t that right, Alex?” 

Thomas hums a pleased note at their display, takes another slow sip of his drink, appraising both of them over the rim of his glass as he nudges Alex with his foot again as if to say _go on, answer_. 

Alex nods, a little desperately, and bites down on his lower lip, that spot where Thomas’s thumb had been just moments ago still burning hotter than the rest of him. “Yes,” he sighs as John dips his fingers under the top of his jeans, half in answer to the question and half in encouragement. And _fuck_ he probably shouldn’t let himself get this carried away. He’s _working_ for fuck’s sake. But the combination of John’s familiar touch and Thomas’s eyes on him, dark and dangerous and so fucking _possessive_ is all the right kinds of deliciously tantalizing. 

Thomas tsks from his spot at the end of the couch, levels a disapproving stare at Alex. “You’re being so _greedy_ over there, darlin’. Go on and touch him back. Don’t want to act like a selfish little slut, do you?” 

Alex swallows hard and purses his lips, the flash of indignant irritation high in his chest because he _knows_ Thomas is enjoying himself, watching Alex getting touched and caressed, flushed and distracted. He can see it in how dark his pupils have gotten, how he licks his lips occasionally like he’s not even thinking about it, how his gaze never lingers far. And Alex knows he puts on a _damn good_ show. “Not _greedy_ ,” he grumbles as he squirms out of John’s hold, eliciting a soft breath of laughter as Alex turns to face his front, nipping at his chest, down to his abs. 

“What was that, doll?” The ice cubes in Thomas’s glass clink again as he rests the drink against his lap. “You need to speak up.”

“I _said_ ,” he huffs, turning back around to look at Thomas, not bothering to hide the spark behind his eyes. “I’m not fucking greedy.” 

Thomas grins, bright and clearly amused. “There we are. I was wondering when the claws would come out.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Alex insists, trying to ignore the flare of frustration at the condescending way he says it. “Would think _you_ of all people would know how _generous_ I can be.”

“Then show me,” Thomas says simply, leaning back, one eyebrow raised in challenge. 

Alex exhales sharply, the hair falling towards the front of his face fluttering with his breath, but bites back any possible complaint. Thomas’s words echo in his ear, and he’s never been one to back down from a challenge. If this is the show Thomas wants– if he wants Alex to be all sweet and accommodating and fucking well behaved– Alex is damn well going to put his all into it. He sinks down to his knees in front of the couch, gives John an expectant look until he readjusts with a smug smirk, letting his legs fall into place on either side of Alex. 

And when Alex runs hands up both his thighs, fingers just ghosting the crease of his groin, John’s hand comes to rest firmly at the back of his head, both grounding and encouraging. Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Alex makes sure Thomas has a good view of his face as he licks his lips and teases John with a coy smile, rubs his cheek up against the hard muscle of his thigh and sighs in pleasure. He traces his fingers up higher, towards the button on his jeans, and bites his lip in hesitation, playing up the act as much as he can for Thomas’s benefit. “Can I?” he asks demurely, toying with the button idly but not popping it open quite yet. 

“You ask like that and you can have whatever the hell you want,” John tells him, tugging on his hair a little bit. Knows he likes the way it stings, that it helps to keep him present, focused. Alex gives a little, breathless sigh in gratitude and is about to undo John’s fly when Thomas clears his throat. 

“It’s like you forgot who’s in charge here, doll,” he says slowly, head tilted as he drinks in the sight of him. “You know better than to go ahead without asking _me_ for permission.”

Alex flushes, the little spark of humiliation lighting hot in stomach. So _this_ is how Thomas wants to play it tonight. “Please?” he tries, putting all his smoldering arousal into the one word and trying to make his face as pretty as possible, blinking up through thick lashes and pushing his lower lip out just a bit.

“Please _what_? For goodness sake, you don’t shut up when I want you to, but _now_ you suddenly can’t form a proper question?”

Alex swallows hard and tries again. “Please let me touch him. I’ll put on such a good show for you, Thomas, just let me.” He sinks down more heavily onto his knees, straining his thighs a little to try and relieve some of the tension that’s already forming in his groin. “ _Please._ ”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs. “Go ahead then, darlin’. Show me what you can do.”

Alex licks his lips and sets to work. He goes slow. Leans forward and undoes the button and the zipper of John’s jeans with just his teeth. Smiles smugly at the groan John lets out when he mouths at his cock through his underwear– a black, lacy piece from his performance earlier– and runs his tongue up his quickly hardening shaft. John’s still got a hand in his hair, and he uses it now, forcing his face closer, increasing the pressure of Alex’s lips on his dick. He drags his face higher, so Alex can tongue at the head, and sighs indulgently. “Fuck, Alex. Feels good.” 

“Get those out of the way and it’ll feel a whole lot better,” Alex tells him with a coy smile, licking at his cock through the lace again. 

“My pleasure.”

Alex tries to lose himself in the act as John tugs his jeans and then the black lace all the way off, leans back on the couch and spreads his legs so Alex can scooch forward into the space between his thighs, as he sinks his lips down onto John’s cock while humming a soft, pleased note and swallows the whole thing down in one go. But he’s too aware of Thomas’s eyes on him, the little noises of approval or encouragement he makes as Alex bobs his head down or sucks in his cheeks or takes John deep enough that he chokes just a little bit before getting his gag reflex under control. The knowledge that Thomas is watching– that he’s _enjoying_ what he’s watching– is enough to make Alex whine in anticipation. _God_ , he’s so fucking hard already. John grips down on his shoulder as Alex sinks deep once again, and he’s distracted enough by the motion that he doesn’t hear Thomas setting down his glass on the table, ice cubes clinking against the sides, doesn’t notice Thomas getting up, coming to stand behind Alex, until there’s a strong hand on the back of his head, holding him down. 

“I know you can do better than that, doll. Don’t be stingy with your little friend, here.” Alex feels his throat spasm and tighten as he’s suddenly forced farther down along John’s cock, Thomas’s weight unrelenting as he winds fingers into the loose hair at the back of Alex’s head, getting a better grip and holding tight enough that Alex can feel the pleasant pull at his scalp. 

John lets out a low groan and pulses his hips, jamming the cock impossibly further, fingers gripping in tighter against his shoulder. Alex is dizzy with all of the sensations, John’s touch, Thomas’s, the intrusion forcing its way down his throat, keeping him filled, it all combines until everything is a pleasant, indiscernible buzz of need, and he grinds his hips forward in futile little movements, desperate for some friction where he needs it most, and he can’t _breathe_ , but the lack of oxygen is good, intoxicating, and he would whine with the building arousal burning through him if his airway wasn’t so perfectly cut off. Noticing his state, Thomas tugs on his hair, pulls him roughly off of John’s length all at once so that he instinctively gasps for air even as Thomas is forcing his head back uncomfortable far. “What do you need, Alex?” he asks, dark and quiet and delicious, like poisonous honey, staring down at him with enough heat to burn the place to the ground. 

Alex whimpers, unable to find the words with all that fierce intensity directed at him. 

“Do you need this?” He loosens the grip in Alex’s hair just slightly and guides his face to the side until his cheek is pressed up against Thomas’s cock, thick and heavy where it presses through the material of his pants. 

_Fuck._

John’s hand is still resting on his shoulder, gaze intent and impatient where it focuses on Alex’s mouth. 

He licks his lips and nuzzles his face more securely against Thomas’s crotch, trying to convey just how badly he wants it. “Yes,” he sighs, his breath hitching at the end of the word. “Please. _Fuck_ , I need it. _Please_ , Thomas–” 

“Of course you do,” Thomas cuts him off with a quiet breath of laughter. “My needy little whore.” Alex whines as Thomas scratches softly at his scalp, fingers of his other hand coming to trace the line of his jaw, run along his bottom lip where it’s still slick with spit from thorough use he’d already been put through. “I _do_ think you deserve a reward for putting on such a good show for me, darlin’,” he purrs, voice pitched low and rough. He fists his fingers tight in Alex’s hair again, his grip turning harsh all of a sudden as he _yanks_. “Come on now, up.” He pulls him haphazardly to his feet, and Alex throws an affronted glare behind him more for effect than because he actually _minds_ the rough handling. 

Thomas just laughs, pushes him towards the side of the couch and Alex catches wind of what he’s about to do just seconds before a hand comes down firmly on his back, bending him over the arm of the couch and shoving his face down into the leather of the seat. Alex lets out a soft grunt of surprise that switches over to an excited whimper as Thomas’s fingers wrap around his hips, coming to pop open the button of his jeans and yank down the zipper. “Yeah, going to give you what you need, darlin’,” Thomas tells him, his voice hitching a little as he slides the jeans past Alex’s hips and down his thighs, revealing the tight, metallic briefs he had worn for his show. Thomas traces a finger along the edge of them, where the smooth material meets his skin, and Alex shivers. Feels hyper-aware of those hands and the contrasting sensations– holding him down and working him up, one firm, strong, the other gentle and teasing, featherlight touches through the smooth material, caressing the curve of his ass and the spot where his hip bones jut out a just little. It’s overwhelming in its own way, but he needs _more_. Needs that hand on his bare skin. Spreading him open. Tearing him apart. _Fuck._ He huffs a little little desperate sound somewhere between a whine and a sigh, and Thomas finally relents. shoves his underwear and pants all the way down, prompting Alex to step out of them and kick them to the side before he continues. “Loved watching you up there tonight,” he murmurs, all fiery heat as he leans down to press the words into the skin behind Alex’s ear. He can hear John shift on the couch beside him, but he can’t see him properly from this angle, and it’s hard to focus with Thomas running a hand along his trembling waist anyway. “You looked so _damn good_. Wanted to drag you down from that stage and fuck you right there, right in front of everyone.” Alex whimpers at the mental image and the praise, and he feels John’s hand in his hair now, gentle at first, but then his grip grows a little tighter, grounding him, keeping him focused. “I’m sure one cock isn’t enough for a greedy little slut like you, hmm? You just love being the center of everyone’s attention, don’t you, doll?” Thomas teases in a low purr, pressing his own erection up against Alex’s bare ass through layers of clothing, already hard and wanting. “So I was thinking maybe a little spit roast might do the trick.” John’s fingers tighten incrementally at his scalp in anticipation. “How does that sound, darlin’? Two cocks stuffing you, giving you what you really need?” 

Alex swallows, taking a second to steady his breath as arousal courses through his veins, blindingly hot and distracting and perfect. _Fuck._ He’s practically salivating for it already. “ _Yes_ ,” he finally manages, pressing his hips back into Thomas’s touch as John pulls his face up from the couch, maneuvering him for better angle. “Please. Fuck me. _Wreck me._ I don’t care just hurry the fuck up and _do it already_.” He sucks in a sharp breath of anticipation at the sound of Thomas undoing his fly, a ruffle of fabric, and then he’s pressing up against one ass cheek, warm and as wonderfully thick and long as Alex remembered. He licks his lips as John tilts his head back, pulling him level with his own cock. He doesn’t sink in just yet though, waits there– makes _Alex_ wait there– while Thomas grabs a small packet of lube from his pocket, rips the foil open and slicks himself thoroughly before _finally_ lining up. He doesn’t push in yet, just holds himself at the entrance while he runs his clean hand over Alex’s lower back. 

“Keep him quiet, would you?” Thomas asks, light and casual as if they’re discussing the weather. “Don’t want all his noises making the other customers out there too jealous after all.”

“Can’t have that,” John agrees with a smirk as he adjusts his grip, pulling Alex into place and pressing his hips forward, his cock pushing past Alex’s parted lips all at once. Alex glances up at John through his lashes as the familiar weight slides along his tongue, hums in encouragement as he feels the length of it twitch in his mouth, eager and wanting. “Fuck, Alex,” he groans, pulsing his hips and nudging the back of Alex’s throat before pulling back again. “You feel incredible.” 

In lieu of a response, he sucks in his cheeks and works his tongue along the bottom of John’s shaft, drawing a low moan from deep in his chest. 

Thomas breathes a quiet, pleased laugh behind him and pets the curve of his ass, punctuating the action with a pointed squeeze. “You’re being so good for us, darlin’, aren’t you?” 

Alex can’t answer with John filling his mouth so completely, and he’s wondering if it's a rhetorical question or if Thomas somehow _meant_ for him to respond when he suddenly leans in, the head of his cock stretching its way past tight muscle. Alex groans as the discomfort of _too much_ mingles with burning need low in his abdomen, the stretch lighting his nerve endings and urging on his own arousal. 

_Fuck it’s good._ Thomas doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated inside of him, deep and thick and fucking huge, and Alex wants to sob his relief at finally getting what he needs after so much buildup, but he _can’t_ because John is too far inside him, his cock cutting off Alex’s air with every press of his hips so that breathing itself is a challenge. 

He leans back into Thomas’s thrusts instead, rocking himself back onto his cock with the little bit of space he has to work with, hoping the movement is enough to get across his enthusiasm, his desire for more. He’s rewarded for it when Thomas grips firm fingers into his hips and adjusts, angles him so that with the next stroke he hits just right and Alex sees fucking stars. _Fuck._ He keens around John’s cock, his own heavy and rock hard where it’s trapped against the arm of the couch as Thomas nails that spot again and again, and Alex can feel the tightness building in his groin, his every nerve alight he tips closer to the edge, his senses swimming and overwhelmed, feeling so _full_ and so tight as he squeezes around the intrusion, absolute surrender between two opposing forces as they both use him, and he feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes because it’s so damn perfect. 

“ _Fuck_ , you look gorgeous stretched on my cock. So fucking good for me, doll,” Thomas groans. His voice sounds wrecked and raw and Alex will never get over the effect he has on this impossibly powerful man. The praise goes straight to his dick, and the next time Thomas thrusts in, the movement rocks him up against the arm of the chair just right, and he knows– fuck _he knows–_ he’s so damn close. He makes a frantic, desperate noise, equal parts plea and warning, and clenches hard around Thomas as he spills over the leather, his every muscle tight, his every nerve on fire, until all he feels is bliss.

John grips tighter where his fingers are buried in his hair as he keens and groans and trembles through his orgasm, and the vibrations must tip him over the edge because he thrusts in once, twice, and then his cock throbs hot and heavy as he holds himself in deep, spills right down Alex’s throat with a, “ _God_ , Alex, _fuck, fuck_ –” 

And through it all, Thomas continues to pound into him from behind, thick and huge and angled perfectly to wring every ounce of pleasure out of him, fucking him through the aftershocks, his rhythm growing erratic, and he _must_ be getting close. The sensations are fading from perfectly overwhelming to uncomfortable and too much, and when John finally pulls out and Alex is able to swallow properly again and _breathe_ , the first thing he does is moan out, “ _T_ _homas please_ ,” and then whimper into the couch as he _finally_ digs fingers into Alex’s hips tight enough to bruise and holds himself deep with a stuttering groan as his cock throbs and spills inside of him. 

Alex sinks down onto the arm of the couch as Thomas pulls out, feeling loose and boneless and absolutely sated. He almost wishes he didn’t have to get back for the rest of his shift, because he’d be perfectly content to curl up and fall asleep at the moment, warm and relaxed and oh so satisfied. 

But he _can’t._ He’s got work to do, money to make. He gives himself a minute. Hears Thomas moving around behind him, then the zip of his fly as he puts his clothing to rights. Can see John just barely out of his peripheral vision as he grabs his own jeans from the floor. He knows he should be doing the same, but he feels like he’s underwater at the moment, floating and peaceful and seeing everything through a haze, and he’s not ready to disturb that peace just yet. 

Eventually reality starts to fade back in. He grows cold and uncomfortable where he’s flopped down over the arm of the couch, the leather sticking uncomfortably to his hips and his stomach, and he peels himself off as he pushes up to his feet with a soft grunt. John’s looking at him with a mix of amusement and fondness and impatience– he has his own work to get back to after all– and Alex waves him towards the door even as he finds it’s hard to move his limbs. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later,” he says, his words coming out just a little bit slurred.

John quirks an eyebrow as if to say, _you better_. But they trust each other too implicitly at this point for John to have any doubt that Alex will get him his share of the money. He rolls his eyes at the state Alex is in, fucked out and too content to get going just yet, but heads back out of the private with a nod and a quiet click of the door behind him. 

Alex leans down with a groan to grab his briefs and tug them on slowly, wishing he didn’t have to _move_ so soon, and gives a start when he feels Thomas press up behind him, wrapping arms loosely around his waist as Alex straightens up. “You were so _good_ for me, doll. _So good._ ” Alex feels the color rise to his cheeks, embarrassed by the praise. He still isn’t quite used to _this_ aspect of Thomas’s attentions, but they’ve repeated nights like this enough times now that Alex knows to expect the kind words and reassurance afterward. It’s sweet, if slightly unnerving. Not something he ever expects from customers– and Alex has to constantly remind himself that no matter how powerful and important and _rich_ Thomas is, no matter how much he showers Alex with money and attention and sweet words, he _is_ still a customer at the end of the day. And customers don’t stick around forever. 

But it can’t hurt to savor the moment just a little bit. 

He leans back into Thomas’s chest and hums contentedly, appreciating the warmth and strength in his arms. Alex can’t help but think that it really shouldn’t be legal for someone with so much wealth and stature to also _look_ so damn good. He runs the fingers of one hand slowly up a toned bicep, marveling at him for just a moment. “I always am,” he teases in response with a cheeky grin, rolling his head back to get a better look at his face– just as ridiculously handsome as the rest of him. 

Thomas huffs a quiet laugh, but it sounds fond. “And so _modest_.” 

“You love my confidence,” Alex says, blinking up at him with a little pout. 

Thomas rolls his eyes but smiles, then runs a hand down towards Alex’s ass, grasping at the shiny, tightly-fitted material over one cheek with a pointed squeeze. “I love more than _that_.”

Alex hums a low noise of agreement in the back of his throat, and even though he’s thoroughly spent, he feels the slight flicker of interest spark deep inside him again. “I should get back to work,” he notes reluctantly, spinning around in Thomas’s arms to run his nails lightly over his chest, strong pecs apparent even through his shirt.

Thomas tightens his grip around Alex’s waist for just a moment, but then relents and lets him go, stepping back just slightly. As Alex reaches for his jeans, Thomas reaches for his wallet, starts counting out the payment and a sizable tip, placing it down on the table as Alex continues to put himself back together. “So, are you working tomorrow night?” 

He doesn’t miss the hopeful note in Thomas’s voice, and he smiles as he does his pants back up and reaches for the cash. And if it’s a little warmer than it is for most customers, well, who can blame him? The guy is charming. “Mhmm. Same time as always.” 

“I’ll see you then.” Thomas flashes perfectly white teeth in a beautiful grin that Alex can’t help admiring for just a few seconds before shaking himself out of it and heading back onto the floor, distracted and slightly dazed, but undeniably happy. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments down below! 
> 
> Come hang out on tumblr @ThatWouldBee-Enough and on insta @thatwouldbeeenough


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